A Full-Service Medical Cannabis Dispensary and the Best in the Community for Legally Qualified Patients and Caregivers
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2 No. III, Vol Activist Behind 420 Girls Rob Griffin Romulan Far East Strain Review AdventuresAdventures Obama Wins Dispensing,Dispensing, IndianIndian StyleStyle What Does It TheThe Warlord’sWarlord’s SonSon Mean to MMJ Stephanie Landa Inside Solitary Mestre Edward Honey by Nature’s Candy photo Cover " A full-service medical cannabis dispensary and the best in the community for legally qualified patients and caregivers. $100 OG KUSH BLACKBERRY GOLD RUSH XXX OG LEMON KUSH AFWRECK HEADBAND PURPLE MASTER A.T.F. HAI FIRE PUSSY KUSH PLANE WRECK PLATINUM OG LEMON PURPLE GRAPE APE CHURCH SWEET KUSH SENSI STAR PURPLE SKUNK WHITE WIDOW PURPLE URKLE BUBBA KUSH GREEN CRACK SNOW CAP PURPLE KUSH SUPER SOUR DIESEL BANANA AK-47 SUPER SILVER HAZE LOLLIPOPS BUBBLE GUM OG AFWRECK EDIBLES MASTER KUSH STRAWBERRY WRECK SODAS ULTRA BUBBA TRAINWRECK DRINKS • Kush’s capped at $65 —— SPECIALSPECIAL —— Best quality medications. 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Limit 1 per patient) Open Mon-Sat 10am-8pm • Sun 11am-8 pm 2 Order a subscription to Greenkind Magazine at www.ordergreenkind.com greenkind magazine Vol. III, No. 2 3 4 Order a subscription to Greenkind Magazine at www.ordergreenkind.com Contents The Warlord’s Son ...................................... 6 What Makes Them Do What They Do? ............... 11 Activist Rob Griffin/420 Girls......................... 12 Deedub and Back to Basics/Hip Hop ................ 18 Peptic Ulcer/Health ................................... 20 WeedTracker.Com Tips ................................ 22 Poetry, “Herb” .......................................... 23 Mercury’s Retrograde .................................. 23 Wonderful World of Honey ............................ 24 Stephanie Landa — Inside ............................. 31 Dispensing, Indian Style ............................... 32 Patient’s Cooperative Resource Center ............. 34 San Francisco Cannabis Cup .......................... 35 Reflections of the Medical Cannabis Community WeedTracker.Com So-Cal Meet and Greet .......... 37 www.gkmagazine.net Michigan, MMJ 13th State ............................. 38 www.myspace.com/greenkindmagazine Book Review, Eddy Lepp .............................. 40 Advertising/Sales: 866-933-3875 x1 Recipies .................................................. 42 Greenkind Magazine: 510-728-4772 Did You Know?/Word Puzzle .......................... 43 Submissions: [email protected] Patient Resource Directory ........................... 45 PUBLISHER EXECUTIVE EDITOR For New Patients Only ................................. 51 Dogpatch Media Melrose Sanchez Editor Notes — Obama Wins .......................... 52 PRODUCTION/LAYOUT CONTRIBUTING WRITER/MEDIA Strain Review — Romulan ............................. 53 Lee Sanchez Rachel Perlstein MEDIA DIRECTOR/PHOTOGRAPHY ADVISORY CONSULTANT Marcella Sanchez Stephanie Landa MARKETING/PUBLISHING NOR-CAL SALES REPRESENTATIVE Dogpatch Media Jeffrey Masters Cover photo by Edward Mestre. 866-933-3875 x1 866-933-3875 x5 Flag of the USS Hornet EVENTS AND PROMOTION Alameda, California Moose 866-933-3875 x6 AD RATE 1-ISSUE 3-ISSUE 1/8 Page Ad $ 225 $ 608 1/4 Page Ad $ 350 $ 945 1/2 Page Ad $ 580 $1566 Full Page Ad $ 920 $2484 ©2008 greenkind magazine • All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part without permission is prohibited. All contents ©2008 by greenkind magazine is intended for adult use only and assumes no responsibility for any claims or representations contained in this publication or in any advertisement nor do they encourage the illegal use of any of the products advertised within. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. Thank you for your patronage. greenkind magazine Vol. III, No. 2 5 The Warlord’s Son by Jerry Beisler Warlord: a military commander exercising civil power by force, usually in a limited area. ahki was an Afghan who spoke a streetwise version of five languages. In English, Sahki repeated the protocol for meet S ing the Warlord. “When he puts his left hand on his chapon, over his heart, you both do the same.” A chapon is a robe-type garment worn hanging shoulder to knee. My wife and I spoke Farsi. Sahki reminded us of the stan- dard Afghan six-part greeting of “How are you? How is your fam- ily? Is life good?” etc. that everyone in the country said upon meet- ing one another. I was instructed to add “and how is your father?” the specific, local tradition. Sahki added with body language to Rebecca “women touch each other on the shoulder with their right hand and stroke lightly along the arm three times.” Of much, much more importance, Rebecca would only look up when facing the Warlord and only answer any question “Insh’allah” which translates as “God willing.” The Warlord controlled an area that stretched beyond the national borders of two countries and across the political borders of two of Afghanistan’s provinces. It was said he could raise a 10,000-man militia, in an hour, to protect the trade route from Balkh, happen if I rode among the most skilled and fierce horsemen dur- Afghanistan to Chitral, Pakistan and its major cash crop — can- ing their National game. Nonetheless, I suggested, in Farsi, for a nabis. All that power was of little value to me. A load of hashish in second time, the idea of my limited participation in the game. Chitral, Pakistan needed to be linked up through possibly twenty- “And what do you think of your husband dying on the five different Clans on its next step to market. One of the Sultans Buzkashi ground?” the Warlord asked Rebecca. would try to take the load by force if, for no other reason, than to “God willing!” she replied demurely, averting her eyes to give the young men in his Clan some live action. Sahki, on the the ceiling fan. other hand, had no power. He I had been riding horses for two and a half years while liv- bought hash, bribed and ing in Afghanistan. I had my own stallion and Rebecca had her sneaked it to the biggest in- own mare. I was rock hard and in first class shape. Now was the country market — Kabul, the time to fulfill my recurring childhood dream of riding among the only place on earth I would best from the Steppes of Central Asia. ever do business with him. he Warlord’s wife appeared at a side door from the women’s Sahki was using quarters of the fortress. She wore a full length, floral pat Tterned garment of soft cotton and a delicate embroidered Rebecca and I, haggling Afghan style, and pitching the hat. The designs, color and style had changed little over the centu- idea of getting a “goodly ries. Heavy bracelets adorned both her arms. Children peeked and amount” on credit because a pushed through the doorway behind her. beautiful blonde, who could There was a pregnant pause before the Warlord invited her speak Farsi, meant a lot on the into the room. He introduced her to Rebecca with great formality ledger of potential . “bo- ending with “hanomn as mo,” “my wife.” The two women touched nanza for all!” in rough trans- each other’s right shoulder and then gently rubbed each other’s lation. arm. Rebecca was invited to “party” with the women the next day I was there to get this while the men watched the Buzkashi match. Baron of Hashish, not to let me Much to Sahki’s chagrin, this opened the conversation to play Buzkashi, but to let me be another appeal by me to partake in the game. Having to say “no” on the field, horseback, with- thrice to anyone was not something the Wali of the Hash belt was out just getting pummeled, familiar with and so there was no reply. We did agree to return the whipped and flipped. Some- next day to enjoy a promised lunch of lamb kabobs, rice pilov and thing Sahki assured me would the region’s culinary delight . melons. Sahki in Kabul 66 OrderOrder a a subscription subscription to to Greenkind Greenkind Magazine Magazine at at www www.ordergreenkind.com.ordergreenkind.com . Sheerik, the soft pliable, gold-flecked hashish never sold for export and gifted to the star Chapandaz of the Buzkashi. Sakhi claimed to have smoked it once and exaggerated the philosophi- cal revelations from it use. “Charas” is the Afghan word for hashish and even commer- cial varieties were potent. The key difference lay in the type of pollen “binder” used to form the patties, blocks or fingers most Westerners relished. The best was made of pollen mixed with drop- lets of water. Spit was added by the lazy to finish off a piece and, worst of all, a dollop of old motor oil was the binder for the big, commercial shipments created in the lawless tribal areas along the Khyber Pass. Sheerik pollen was so sticky it did not need a binder. We usually smoked marijuana grown from Mexican seeds culti- vated in our own biodynamic flowerbed. All hotels in Afghanistan above the rat-hole level had a nice garden on the premises. For our benefit and learning experience, Sahki quizzed any member of the staff serving us in the garden. Photo of author (note horse tack) “Tell them” he would point and ask “how the Wali deals with people he does not favor or who break the law.” Some would laugh We returned to our primitive hotel accommodations, two and reply while others whispered a response; but one answer traveling companions, and Afghan driver. One, Montreal Michael, evolved: “The Wali stakes them at the edge of town to be eaten was an intelligent, Canadian bookworm with an anthropologist’s alive by jackals so the people can hear their slow, fatal, anguished, curiosity and a photographer’s artistic gift. He was an accom- cries for mercy.” plished horseman as well. Motorcycle Mark, a twenty-one year old motorcycle-racing champion, was the other.